Phantasy Star Endgame
by Cast Iron Mouse
Summary: Ragol was supposed to be a safe haven for humankind to start over, but the planet is occupied. When the seal that binds the ultimate evil is broken, a government will try to harness its power, and a group of hunters will try to destroy it forever.


1

"_They needed a hero. And I just happened to fill that position."_

"And after I smashed all the screens this giant robot thing drops out of the ceiling."

"Robot? Like a Cast?"

"No like an evil tank slash android slash superweapon thing. I dunno who built it, but that thing was badass. It was all firing lasers and dropping things on my head and when I killed it, it just went 'boom'."

"Boom?'

"Yeah boom. And it blew apart. Just, boom!" Trish flung her arms out wide to illustrate, sloshing the contents of her glass on an unsuspecting waitress. "Oh heh, sorry. But yeah, after he blows up, the teleporter activates and it's got these weird coordinates. And now I'm at this ancient looking place. It's kind of like an old ship and-"

"Maybe we should take mister drinkypoo," Gale said, reaching for her blonde counterpart's drink.

"It's my drinkypoo. Lemme alone." Trish pulled her drink back, sloshing even more of it onto the table in the process. It wasn't even that late in the evening, but Trish had justified knocking back glass after glass by saying, "It's, like, midnight planetside. Fuck you". She took a moment to straighten her left pigtail, making it even more lopsided.

Ever since she had taken on the quest from the Principal, she was looking less and less like herself. The Hunewearl wore a jacket over her normal green hunter top and denim shorts, which was odd considering she normally like to show as much skin as was legal. Possibly less if she could get away with it. She was beginning to look a little worse for wear. Gale was beginning to get worried. She had been listening very skeptically to her friend recount her adventures from the past twenty-four hours.

"Hey…Hey. I'm trying to be serious. There's shit goin down. Like, some serious shit. Like, there are these guys following me all day, right? And they're working for the government. I don't think they know I know, but I know. I don't think they know the coordinates of the ruins yet either but-"

"Trish, maybe you should lay off a little."

"You lay off a little!"

"You're not making any sense."

"You're not listening!" Trish attempted to take a drink out of the empty glass and frowned in disappointment. "Look, this quest is absolutely batshit. I'm not even supposed to be talking about it, but somebody needs to know. Red Ring Rico went missing. I'm finding her message pods but they're all 1,000 beats ahead of me. I'm pretty sure something down there got her."

1,000 beats meant that those messages were all a day old. No one ever stayed planetside that long without checking in. "I know the animals on the surface are vicious. But you've been in the dome. Shouldn't you have come across Pioneer one survivors by now?"

Trish sobered a little, eyes gaining a hard edge. "What survivors?"

It took a moment for it to sink in. "So you found the bodies?" she whispered.

"What bodies?"

Gale looked down at the table in confusion. The explosion on Ragol happened three days ago. No one had heard from anyone from Pioneer two and the ship wasn't landing. People were getting tense. The explosion was huge but not coming across anything indicating people were ever there.

"Nothing about this makes any sense. Those pillars I told you about, I don't think they're from Pioneer 1 at all. They started humming as soon as I touched them. And the door into the ruins, it sorta looked connected to them. There's some seriously fucked up stuff going on down there. And I think-"She stopped midsentence, stone cold sober. "I think we need to leave."

Gale followed Trish's gaze to the two soldiers that had entered the Sizzler. One was short, with unkempt black hair and a nasty looking scar on his cheek, while the other was a tall, clean cut brunette. Soldiers were not unusual; they normally came into the bar on their off hours to blow off some steam. However, soldiers rarely went barhopping in full uniform, and they never scanned the room the way these two were doing.

"So," Gale raised her eyebrow, "those guys that were following you, what did they look like?"

"Like that," Trish replied. "Just like that. Shit." She quickly analyzed the packed bar for a solution. She found it in the form of two burly, arm wrestling Humars.

"Um, I think they see us," Gale said, alerting Trish to the fact that the two soldiers were making their way across the room. "Plan? A plan would be nice."

Trish seized her counterpart by the wrist and began hauling her towards the wrestling Humars, pulling her through tightly packed bodies. It was only the equivalent of five in the afternoon, but it was also Saturday, and the words "too early" meant next to nothing to the Saturday night crowds.

The men gained on them with each step. Trish plucked a large glass of what she assumed to be some expensive microbrewed ale off of a passing waitress's tray. At the last moment, her sober look dissolved into the giggly, drunk Hunewearl from moments before. Just as one grabbed her arm she "tripped", spilling the amber liquid all down the front of the bigger of the two arm wrestlers.

"The fuck!"

"Oh. Whoops," Trish giggled. "Sorry I just-"

"You _just_ threw your drink on me you clumsy bitch!" He roared, drawing himself up to his full height, which was very impressive. The Sizzler got very quiet.

"Hey, I said I was sorry!"

"I should break your goddamn arm!"

The blonde snorted with laughter. "Oh please, my boyfriend was saying he could kick your ass one handed. Weren't you baby?" She stepped back, patting the clean cut soldier's chest.

"Ah…" The "boyfriend" struggled to find words. "Look lady, I just-"

"Oh is that right then? Kick my ass huh? You think you're all big and bad 'cause your military, but you're not. You guys ain't nothing but glorified security guards. I'm sick of people like you throwing your rank around. You're not better than us. You're not better than anybody!"

"Yeah." The other Humar stood up. His height was equally impressive. "You come in places like this and push innocent folks around just because you've got a title. You come in here and bully everybody. S'time somebody did something about it!"

The entire crowd was murmuring in agreement. The murmur became louder. Out of it arose a "People like you is what's causing all the problems with the landing!"

"Who the hell do you think you are!"

"You outta be taught a lesson!"

Other, less polite statements were hurled from the crowd. The murmur crescendoed into a roar of anti-military sentiment.

Boyfriend let go of Trish and put his hands up. "Calm down folks. We aren't looking for a fight."

The Humars fist made contact with blinding speed. The bar went silent again as the soldier staggered against a nearby table. He touched his fingers to his face and inspected the blood pouring out of his nose. He calmly wiped the blood on his jacket, and lunged at his attacker like a wild animal. Something in the big cat family came to mind.

Fists flew. First the anger was directed solely at the soldiers, but the amount of alcohol that had been consumed made tempers flare. Within moments the Sizzler had erupted into a brawl that would make the evening news.

Trish and Gale wove through the punches and breaking bottles towards the kitchen in the back, where the owner, Horus, stood with his arms crossed.

"Hey Horus, this is no place for ladies." Gale smiled.

"Mind if we used your back door real quick?" Trish grinned.

This was not the first time a fight had broken out in his bar. It was also not the first time that those two had been the epicenter of said fight. He looked in disbelief as wooden chairs were broken and good, expensive liquor was wasted. He glared hot daggers at the two. "Get. The. Hell. Out. Of. My. Bar."

"Can do!" Trish wasted no time darting for the back door.

Gale wasted no time following. "Kaythanksbye!"

They dashed through the alleys for three blocks before hailing a cab. They were exhausted, panting, but grinning from ear to ear. "Oh you are so fucking brilliant."

"One of us has to be, you just stood there."

Gale pushed a stray lock of fluorescent purple hair behind her ear. "The hell was I supposed to do? I'm not about to get into a fist fight with a couple of officers. I'd get arrested."

"Again."

"Fuck you. You have really stepped in it this time haven't you."

"I'm up to my fucking eyeballs in it."

"I'm actually starting to believe your story."

"Finally." Their smiles faded as the taxi approached, they glanced around nervously, praying to whatever deity would hear them they had not been followed.

The door opened with a hiss, and the driver eyeballed the both of them. "Hello ladies. You know where you want to-"

The two Hunewearls practically dove into the back seat. ""East shopping district in 2A, by the Hunters Guild," Trish commanded. "Fast as you can drive."

"Uh alright but-"

"And no questions. For the love of god, no questions."

The cabbie shut his mouth and lifted into the air, heading for the shopping district.

Zeke stumbled out of the back door of the Sizzler, feeling only slightly guilty about leaving Erik alone in a fight. However, tracking their mark was more important than his partner's safety. She had managed to keep two steps ahead of them and now she was gone completely. He wasn't looking forward to reporting in. Especially not alone. He stepped backward into a darker portion of the alley and pulled out an electronic device, the size of his hand. He clicked a few buttons and opened a BEE channel. "This is Alpha."

After a few moments, Sampson's voice crackled over the com. "Hey Alpha. Hold on. Colonel wants to talk to you." Zeke died a little inside.

"What happened?" The unsympathetic voice of the colonel flew out of the tiny speaker. He sounded annoyed. He sounded as if he already knew. Hell, he probably did.

"We tracked target to the Sizzler in the 3F restaurant district. She is aware of our pursuit. She created a diversion and-"

"You lost her," The Colonel stated flatly. Zeke could almost hear him glowering.

"Yes sir. We lost her. She started a fight. Erik is still in the middle of it."

"You mean that you two couldn't handle a bar fight?"

"My apologies sir. It is a very crowded bar."

"Where is she headed?"

"We don't know. I was unable to get out of the building in time. I lost visual contact. I need some guidance."

A sigh. "Anything else?"

"The target was accompanied by another person. Newman female." Zeke tapped a few buttons. "I'm sending you the picture I managed to take of her. I believe the target was talking to her about the quest."

"Fantastic. I'll have Sampson look her up. Congratulations Petty Officer, you just tripled your workload. You need to find and capture _both_ of them now. If you can't find these girls you and Erik just lost your jobs."

"Yes sir."

After a pause Sampson came back over the com. "He's pissed."

"Yeah I got that." He wondered what losing his job entailed. Most likely a demotion. No one was ever fired from the thirty-second squadron. Not in a way that didn't involve the morgue. "Who's our new friend?"

"Hold on, still searching. This picture sucks."

"_You_ try taking a decent picture in the middle of a bar fight."

Their intelligence man gave a wistful sigh. "You guys get to have all the fun."

"Loads of fun." He involuntarily touched his scar.

"Least you don't have the higher ups in the same room breathing down your neck. You just have to hear it. Meanwhile I'm trapped in this room all day with the Colonel. Do you have any idea what it's like talking to him for more than three minutes? You have any idea how nervous he makes me? I swear to god I found a grey hair this morning. He's giving me grey hair! …Got her. She's part of the Hunter's Guild too. Hold on, I'm sending you her guild registration. Her badge and license numbers are listed so you can track her movements from any terminal in the city."

"Thanks a bunch, Alpha out."

The channel closed, and was replaced with the image of the Hunewearl. Name: Gale Hart. Height: 125cm. Weight: 130lb. Hair color: Purple. Eye color: Blue. Race: Newman. Class: Hunter. Section ID: Oran. Mag: Lv 165 Apsaras. It listed her registration dates, her Newman citizenship number, and the scores of her physical and written tests. Not too shabby.

He eyed the picture. She was pale, and her eye shape suggested she was created from mongoloid genes. She was wearing tight fitting blue hunter gear that coordinated well with her hair. Busty. Well dressed. Seemingly intelligent. Under other circumstances she would have been his type. He may have even been able to get passed the whole Newman thing. But after this she and her friend would probably never be seen again. He frowned, wishing he could quit. No one quit the thirty-second squadron either.

Zeke reopened the door and went to retrieve his partner. He ran a hand through his hair, which was becoming steadily greasier. After this mission he was going to take a nice long shower and possibly sleep.

"Hold on ladies. We need to see clearance."

Trish and Gale flashed their hunter's licenses at the guards and rushed into the teleporter room. Trish began typing in x, y, and z coordinates that didn't make any sense.

"The hell? There's no warp there."

"Yes there is"

"That's ten miles below the surface!"

"Yep." And before her counterpart could step away, Trish hit the confirmation button and they were sucked up into the air again.

Teleporting was like being turned inside out, traveling at mach ten through a small tube, and being reassembled all wrong on the other side. Gale had thrown up and fallen over the first time she had ever teleported. And the second. And the tenth. Trish claimed that she'd never gotten teleportation sickness. She was probably lying.

Gale had an instant to worry that she would be warped into solid ground because of Trish's insanity. Of course this was impossible. Transporters only warped to other transporters so this had to go somewhere.

Before the thought was finished she was in another place. She waited for moment for her equilibrium to catch up before taking in the room. It was made completely of stone nad half of it was crushed in like a crumpled paper sack. The air was stale and heavy, and smelled faintly like something had died in a corner somewhere. "Where the hell are we?"

"We're ten miles below the central dome."

"In what? A mausoleum? Is this ours? We couldn't have possibly built this."

"We didn't." Trish looked down and didn't speak for almost a minute. "You need to see the rest of it." She put her palm on the door and it slid open revealing blackness that went on forever. More warm, stale air whooshed in from the darkness. The smell of dead thing got stronger.

Gale frowned, putting a hand over her nose. "God that's foul."

"It gets worse." Trish flipped a small green visor over her right eye and walked into the dimly lit, cavernous ruins.

Gale followed close behind as they immediately turned left and climbed up onto what looked like a system of catwalks stretching out until they were out of sight. She heard the whirring and clanking of machinery from deep within wherever they were. And something else. A low hollow sound like howling. She strained to hear it, stepping forward and craning her neck. She had to get to that noise. She had go in deeper. She had to-

A hand caught her roughly by the shoulder. "Don't," Trish said. "I know what you're thinking, but don't."

Gale looked down at her own feet and jumped backward. They had She'd almost sauntered right off the catwalk. It was probably about fifty feet to the bottom. "What the hell?"

"Some really bad juju down here. I've run into a couple people down here that were acting just like you did. It didn't end well. If you hear someone calling you, don't listen. If you see someone else, stay away from them. Just keep your head down and follow me." Trish got a firm grip on Gale's wrist and started walking, explaining as they went. "Aside from the infrastructure, you can't tell that Pioneer one ever landed on Ragol. There are no people, no bodies, no Pioneer one. Nothing. Even the central dome is just a big empty shell. All of the animals, all the machinery, even the AIs that are down here have all gone completely batshit. Something is down here. Something very very bad."

"Like what?"

"Rico's messages have said something about mutated animals and evil beings. At first I was pretty sure she went loony after the explosion but now…"She sighed. "Come here."

Trish led her onto a very narrow stretch of catwalk lined with sort of amber colored windows looking down. There were giant rooms with automatic switches and colossal turbines working slowly beneath her. "It's a giant ship." This didn't bode well. She was walked down another catwalk directly over one of the giant machine rooms.

"Look down there."

One of the cavernous rooms below was swarming with odd looking creatures. White floating worms the size of hovercars were snapping with giant pincers at bipedal monsters that were lit up from within. Gale was strangely reminded of the mags. In the corner was a really primitive looking robot, swinging its giant arms at whatever got close. She was suddenly very aware that she wasn't wearing a frame, or a mag, or any weapons. "They don't have heads," she ovserved.

"They don't have stomachs either, or anything that looks like reproductive organs. They're just walking slicing machines."

"You were looking for reproductive organs?"

Trish rolled her eyes. "They fight each other so I thought I could just sneak by, but as soon as they notice you they all forget about maiming each other. Look at the one with the sword arm and the spines. Over there."

It stood on two feet, with giant spikes protruding out of what was supposed to be a head. One arm was a wicked looking red blade, the other arm had an oversized clawed hand. One of the worms lunged at it, snapping. The saber-armed thing blocked with its giant hand and attacked with its sword-arm. She watched it slice three times in a pattern, cutting the worm into sections.

Gale blinked. "That's how they teach you to fight in the Hunter's Academy."

"Rico calls them Delsabers. I think they used to be-"

"Oh shit." She spun around. "They're people. What the hell is going on down here Trish? What the hell did this? Where is everyone from Pioneer one? The fuck!" The Hunewearl blinked several times, trying to make the monsters she saw disappear. They couldn't be people. That was impossible.

Trish took off her coat. Directly below her right collarbone was a giant puncture wound about the size of Gale's fist. The skin around the wound had turned black and hard like the skin on the monsters below. It- Was it pulsing? "I was fighting this thing down in the sewage system for the dome. It had these tentacles and I wasn't fast enough, and," she touched the wound, "it pumped this stuff into my shoulder. It won't heal no matter how many mates I take. Resta. Anti. Nothing works. I think that thing in the sewers did this to the Delsabers."

"Trish you need to go to a doctor."

She shook her head. "The girls at the clinic couldn't fix it. They wanted to send me to a military hospital. That's when those guys showed up. I can't go to a hospital until the Principal knows what's going on. I'm not done down here. I'm going to see where these ruins lead to. You need these." Trish fished a small earring and a datapad out of her pocket. "That's my quest record. I found the earring deeper in, next to one of Rico's message pods. If I don't talk to you within twenty four hours, give them to Tyrell and come find me. Tell him that we need to get out of here. Now. We need to find another planet to live on because this one is occupied."

Gale turned the earring over in her hand. "You need help."

"No." He voice sounded panicked. "Don't come back down here. This place does something to people. And you apparently have the willpower of a cup of jello"

"Excuse me."

"There is some serious shit going on. And when I say serious shit, I mean I may not come back up. I'm pretty sure the government is involved too. Keep a low profile till you hear from me. Don't go out partying. Don't go get hammered somewhere. With any luck the soldiers won't be after you, but I wouldn't count on it."

If I get killed, I hope you'll know that it's your fault." Of course it would be Trish's fault. It was always her fault when Gale got into a fight, or into a wreck, or stole a boat. Well, alcohol had a hand in it too, but it was mostly Trish.

Trish raised an eyebrow.

Gale held up her left hand. "I won't make a spectacle of myself. Scout's honor."

"That's the wrong hand. And you got kicked out of scouts."

"You did too."

"That wasn't my fault. Please don't do anything stupid. I'll let you know as soon as I get to the bottom of this. And I am going to get to the bottom of this. I'm going to tell people the truth." She hugged her friend. It was rare of them to make any kind of physical contact when they were sober.

"Come back in one piece. We'll go and eat after he wires all of that money into your account."

"And shop."

Gale cast ryuker and waved one last time before being sucked into the void and deposited on pioneer two. She canceled her pipe back to the surface and took a cab to her apartment. She fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillows, and for the rest of the night she had nightmares about being dissected by delsabers and giant worms. And about a giant black shadow that slowly swallowed her body, then the room, then it began engulfing all of Pioneer two until nothing was left but monsters cutting each other apart.


End file.
